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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983598">Last Rites</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir'>linndechir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampyr (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, M/M, Post-Canon, Vampire Turning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:15:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>McCullum gets injured so badly on a hunt that even Reid can't save his life. But there is something else he can do for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Mistletoe Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Last Rites</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts">thedevilchicken</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Geoffrey woke, he felt as if he was floating, as if his mind was wrapped in something soft and warm. He couldn’t quite feel his legs, or much of anything, now that he thought about it. It took effort even to open his eyes, and when he glanced down and wiggled his fingers, they felt numb and distant.</p><p>“Geoffrey?” The voice sounded like it came from very far away, muffled and strange, and even so Geoffrey recognised it as Reid’s. He blinked a few times, tried to focus his gaze, and when he managed, he saw Reid sitting by the bed he was lying on. A hospital bed, by all appearances, in a small, private room. And Reid wasn’t all that far away, but sitting so close he could immediately put his cold hand on Geoffrey’s bare forearm. He looked – tired seemed like a strange word to use for a leech, but drawn somehow. Like he’d stayed up too long after sunrise, and Geoffrey realised he had no idea what time of day or night it was.</p><p>The fog in his mind was slowly clearing up a little – he remembered a fight, an Ekon he’d been tracking for days. He remembered all his preparations and flashes of the battle itself, and then unbearable pain and so much blood. He couldn’t remember much past that.</p><p>What he did remember was that he’d been really fucking mad at the leech. His leech, that was. The one looking at him with something in his eyes that was, strangely, not concern, but sadness.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” Reid asked quietly. His voice was oddly rough, a far cry from the smooth, warm tones Geoffrey had grown used to over the years. He looked miserable, Geoffrey realised. More miserable than he’d ever seen him, except maybe at his mother’s funeral.</p><p>“Drugged out of my mind. What did you put me on?” It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in Reid’s care, though most of the time he’d been perfectly capable of dragging himself to the Pembroke or Reid’s fancy house without aid. He didn’t remember doing that this time. He didn’t think he’d finished that fight and walked away by himself – which meant that Reid had found him later, found him and brought him here and patched him up.</p><p>“Morphine,” Reid replied, and that would indeed explain the fogginess. “I thought I could at least make you … comfortable.”</p><p>“I’m not comfortable, I can barely think,” Geoffrey grumbled, and then something struck him. How strange that phrasing had been. He swallowed hard, looked down at himself. There were bandages on his arms, and he could feel another on his neck. On his stomach. In a flash he remembered the Ekon’s claws digging into his stomach, tearing him open and lifting him off his feet. No amount of morphine in the world could do anything about the <i>memory</i> of that pain, or the horror of looking down and seeing his own insides being ripped out of him.</p><p>“I didn’t manage to kill that leech, did I?” he asked. He reached down to touch his bandaged stomach underneath the hospital gown, not that he felt much of anything, but Reid intercepted his hand anyway, wrapped his cool fingers around Geoffrey’s wrist with a tenderness that would have made Geoffrey leave on most nights. They weren’t <i>tender</i> with each other, they were just … convenient.</p><p>“No. But I did. I thought you’d want to know that, that it’s taken care of.” Reid’s voice was thick with regret and sadness and Geoffrey suspected what he was about to say even before Reid opened his mouth again. He knew Reid had told countless people that they were dying in his career, but he didn’t look like that made it any easier. “I’m sorry, Geoffrey. I did all I could, but … your wounds are too grave. No matter how much blood I put back in your body, it’s no use because the bleeding won’t stop. There’s simply too much damage.”</p><p>Maybe it was the drugs that dulled the shock of the news, maybe it was the fact that he’d waited for this for most of his life. Almost nobody in the Guard of Priwen died of old age. Carl Eldritch had died on a Vulkod’s claws, dead before he hit the ground. Most of Geoffrey’s mentors, his friends, the protégés that he’d had over his thirty years in the Guard, they had all died fighting – at least the ones who didn’t end up mutilated or turned and wishing they were dead instead. In a way, Geoffrey had always known that some day, a leech would get him. Some day a leech would be too strong or too fast or simply too lucky. He’d always hoped it’d be over in an instant, like it had been with Carl, that he wouldn’t even have enough time to realise what was happening before it was too late. And over the past few years … he’d felt age starting to creep up on him. The long nights became harder every year, the lack of sleep and the physical exertion took their toll, every wound laid him up a little longer than the previous one, despite Reid’s excellent care. He knew it. It was why he’d asked Reid for help on this particular hunt.</p><p>And Reid had said no.</p><p>“You didn’t do all you could,” Geoffrey said more sharply than he’d intended. He’d been furious – Reid had told him he was busy at the hospital, and anyway he wasn’t a vampire hunter just because Geoffrey was, and he wasn’t going to let one of his patients die on the operating table just because Geoffrey wanted to make his own job easier. They’d yelled at each other for ten minutes, and for once their argument hadn’t ended with one of them getting pinned to the nearest wall and their mouths clashing together, but with Geoffrey telling Reid in no uncertain terms to go fuck himself before he’d stormed out.</p><p>Reid flinched as if Geoffrey had punched him, and it wasn’t just sadness in his eyes, but guilt, too.</p><p>“I – I’m sorry, I –” In any other situation it would have been gratifying to hear Reid stammer, but right now it was the last thing Geoffrey needed. He sighed.</p><p>“Don’t. You weren’t wrong. It’s my job, not yours. Guess I got too old for it.”</p><p>Geoffrey didn’t try to beg or to bargain. He trusted the leech’s medical judgement – if Reid said there was nothing to be done, then there was nothing to be done; no other doctor who could save him instead. Hell, he trusted the leech, period. That Reid wouldn’t let him die just to finally be rid of him, not when Reid had had a million opportunities over the years to kill him. All the times they’d fucked, all the times Geoffrey had dozed off afterwards. All the times he’d come to him, bleeding and weak and trusting that his leech doctor wouldn’t be too tempted by his blood.</p><p>“But there is something you can do for me,” he said finally, after a long pause – or maybe it was the morphine clouding his brain that made it hard to tell how much time had passed, though he felt strangely clear-headed now. As if the shock of what Reid had told him had carved away everything else, everything that didn’t truly matter, as if it had sharpened his mind. He’d always been good at keeping a cool head when thinks went to shit. It was the way Carl had trained him – if there was a problem, you looked at it head-on, you didn’t panic, you came up with a solution and then you soldiered through until it was done. Hesitation and fear and uncertainty only got a man killed when he was facing down a leech.</p><p>“Anything,” Reid said immediately, and Geoffrey had a feeling he might regret those words later. It wasn’t the first time the thought had occurred to him, though he’d never really allowed himself to dwell on it. It was too … unthinkable. Too horrifying. But he was dying, and he knew there was only one solution to this particular problem.</p><p>“I want you to get me a priest.” He glared at Reid. “And not that creepy Skal. I’m not taking my last rites from a bloody leech.”</p><p>He touched the small cross in the hollow of his throat, the worn silver warm and familiar against his skin. It had been a gift from Carl when he’d still been a boy, not even a year after his parents’ death. He wondered if he’d still be able to wear it after he – if he went through with this. If he willingly did the one thing he’d been terrified of for most of his life. Would he ever be able to set foot in a church again? Would his faith would still be able to burn a leech’s skin clean off its face?</p><p>“Of course.” If Reid had been this damn accommodating last night – had it been last night? how long had he already been lying in this hospital bed, slowly dying despite Reid’s care? – then Geoffrey wouldn’t be in this damned mess, but he couldn’t muster any anger. If it hadn’t happened that night, it would have happened soon. Reid couldn’t always watch his back, and Geoffrey had never wanted to be the kind of man who needed protecting.</p><p>“I’ll fetch Father Liam,” Reid added, because of course he knew where Geoffrey went to church, at least on those Sundays when he managed to drag himself out of bed early enough for mass.</p><p>“Mhm.” Geoffrey looked up at Reid – his red eyes, his sickly-pale skin. He didn’t know how anyone could look at him and mistake him for human. It was strange, to imagine looking into the mirror and seeing himself like this, with a leech’s waxen skin and sharp fangs. He wouldn’t be able to go back to Priwen. His men were too well-trained not to see what he’d become, even if he’d be nothing like any damned leech the world had ever seen.</p><p>Geoffrey took a deep breath. Some problems didn’t need solving. He didn’t need to do this. He could simply accept his fate, accept his death, commend his soul to the Lord and finally rest. God knew he deserved it. But the simple truth was that he didn’t want to die. He told himself it was because he had a calling, because his job was never done and he couldn’t trust that Priwen would continue his work without him – in the near future, certainly, but in ten years? In fifty? It wasn’t an excuse, but a valid concern. But it was far from the only reason when he met Reid’s eyes, when he saw that shattered, broken look in them. Leech or not, he looked like he could barely contain his tears.</p><p>“And when that’s done, you’re going to give me your blood,” Geoffrey said, surprised himself that his voice sounded so steady. Reid looked at him like he’d lost his mind.</p><p>“You don’t want that,” he said after a shocked moment of silence. “Nobody in their right mind wants this, but you least of all. You know everything it entails, everything you’d <i>lose</i>, everything you’d risk becoming. It’s the blood loss talking, the morphine, the –”</p><p>“I’m not delirious, Reid,” Geoffrey snapped. “Yes, I know what this means. I know it better than anyone else in the world and believe me, today isn’t the first time I’ve thought about it.”</p><p>His chest hurt when he raised his voice, as if his body didn’t have enough strength left to argue with Reid. He was tired and weak and it wasn’t Reid’s damn choice to make, so Geoffrey simply put his finger right into the ugly wound of Reid’s guilt and pushed. “You caused this mess, Reid. So you’ll fix it, too.”</p><p>Again Reid flinched as if from a strike, lowered his gaze. Like a kicked dog, and Geoffrey almost regretted his words. But he could worry about Reid’s feelings when he couldn’t feel himself slip away with every rattling, aching breath.</p><p>“That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this,” Reid said after what seemed like a long time. “You better remember that it was your idea, once you start despising me for it.”</p><p>Geoffrey knew about Reid’s sister, of course – the only person Reid had ever turned. An accident, but still the greatest regret of his life. She’d turned into the worst kind of leech, so Reid himself had had to put her down, and Geoffrey knew how cruel it was to put this on him now. But it was different, and Reid had to see it. His sister had been a healthy woman, with her life still ahead of her, and her death had been a tragedy. For Geoffrey it was this or nothing at all, and he had the self-discipline to keep himself from turning into a monster.</p><p>Reid didn’t look any less broken at the prospect of turning him than of watching him die, but he kept his word that he’d do anything Geoffrey asked of him. He went away to get Father Liam, and he lowered Geoffrey’s morphine dose as much as he could without sending him screaming – the pain dull and throbbing, but at least his thoughts were clear when he spoke to the old priest, and he suspected that Reid hoped he would come to his senses. It felt like lying – the prayers of a dying man when he was about to cheat death, but then he knew his soul would be gone. He’d always wondered what happened to a man’s soul when he was turned, if it was simply destroyed, torn to pieces by the leech he became, or if a soul could find salvation even as the man became something entirely inhuman. Maybe he should have talked to that leech priest, after all, who most certainly had opinions on the matter. </p><p>After Father Liam had left, they were alone once again. It was late evening, at least the priest had said so, and every single breath in Geoffrey’s chest hurt. He’d held more than a few men’s hand while they lay dying, listened to that horrible, rattling sound. He knew what it meant. It would be so easy to let it happen. To ask Reid to give him more of those drugs and let him fall asleep, without any more pain.</p><p>As if he’d read his mind, Reid said, almost pleadingly, “You don’t truly want me to do this. You don’t want to become what you hate most.”</p><p>He sat down on the edge of Geoffrey’s bed and took his hand – for once his touch barely felt cold, because Geoffrey’s own hands were already like ice. His touch was without a doubt tender, gentle as he rubbed his thumb over he back of Geoffrey’s hand.  The ache Geoffrey felt in his chest at that had nothing to do with his injuries. He swallowed.</p><p>“Afraid you’ll never be rid of me, Reid?” he asked, trying to make light of it, and despite the situation Reid smiled a little, his fangs flashing between his lips.</p><p>“Hardly. If it were up to me … I’d never be rid of you. But I never would have suggested this to you.”</p><p>“I would have ripped your head off, leech,” Geoffrey said, and he doubted there would have been any more venom in his words if he’d had more strength left. “Now get on with it before it’s too late. And … if it all goes to shit, you’ll kill me.”</p><p>Reid nodded, as if Geoffrey had asked him a question rather than stated a fact. He trusted the leech in more ways than one – trusted him not to let Geoffrey turn into a monster if he couldn’t control himself. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it reassured him nonetheless. He wouldn’t go on a murderous rampage and kill those he cared for, like his father and brother had all those years ago.</p><p>There was still that same sadness in Reid’s eyes when he met Geoffrey’s, but after a few moments it gave way to a quiet determination. Much like Geoffrey himself, Reid had always been a man who was willing to do what needed to be done. Who didn’t let uncertainty and fear stop him once he’d come to a decision.</p><p>The wait still felt like an eternity – watching Reid take off his jacket, pry off his cufflinks, roll up the sleeves of his starched shirt. His skin was so pale Geoffrey could easily see the veins underneath, and he wondered how different his sight would be … after this. What it would be like to see the blood underneath that dead skin. He watched as if transfixed when Reid reached down to stroke his cheek – and then he kissed Geoffrey, slow and gentle in a way they rarely ever had before. When they fucked, it was usually rough, or at the very least passionate. Two men who shared things they couldn’t share with anyone else, who were drawn to each other in ways that had little enough to do with affection. When they kissed, it wasn’t … sweet. Geoffrey didn’t think he would have allowed it on any other day, but tonight he relaxed and closed his eyes, and he barely flinched when Reid’s lips slid down to his throat.</p><p>Even now, and despite the morphine, it hurt when Reid bit him. The fangs sank into his skin ever so slowly, piercing his flesh, and then the leech was sucking what bit of blood Geoffrey’s dying body had left out of him. It didn’t take long until his last remaining strength was gone, until even the pain was gone and all that was left was numbness, his mind as foggy as when he’d first woken up. He only managed to open his eyes, blinking against the too suddenly bright light, when Reid whispered his name against his ruined skin, then trailed bloody kisses back to Geoffrey’s lips.</p><p>For a moment, as the darkness began to settle around him, he wondered if Reid was simply going to let him die. If this had been his mercy – a quicker death than several more hours of agony, letting Geoffrey think he would get what he’d asked for and then simply killing him. Maybe Geoffrey wouldn’t have minded so much, now that he was weak enough to accept such a kindness from the leech.</p><p>But Reid was too honest for that, too true to his word. Reid respected him too much to deceive him, for all that they argued almost every time they spoke. With a strange clarity, Geoffrey looked up and watched as Reid’s fangs sank into his own tongue, saw the blood welling from it immediately – leech blood, so deceptively similar to a human’s and so very dangerous. Geoffrey had spent his entire life doing his damnedest not to get the smallest drop of it into his mouth.</p><p>He parted his lips willingly when Reid kissed him again, his tongue licking into Geoffrey’s mouth and all he could taste now was blood – his own, Reid’s, he couldn’t tell the difference. It was sickly and sweet and far too much as it filled his mouth, as he choked on it, and still Reid was kissing him and cradling Geoffrey’s head with one hand. He pressed his forehead against Geoffrey’s when their lips finally parted, and still there was blood dripping from his lips into Geoffrey’s mouth, held open by Reid’s firm grasp.</p><p>For a seemingly endless moment, terror gripped Geoffrey’s heart. He shouldn’t have done this. It had been a mistake, a stupid, horrid mistake born out of that primitive animal fear of dying. Just because Reid managed to be a leech and a decent person didn’t mean Geoffrey would – because most leeches didn’t, no matter who they’d been in their past life. His last thought – his last living, human thought – was that he hoped Reid would kill him before he hurt anyone.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The next hours were nothing but a blood-red haze. At first there was pain, more excruciating than the wounds that had ended his life, and then every other feeling vanished next to a hunger that took him back to the worst days of his childhood, but a hundred times more intense. He felt ravenous as his senses were overflooded with too many smells and sounds, and most inescapable was the scent of blood everywhere, the sound of heartbeats from adjacent rooms. He remembered Reid holding him down with that overpowering leech strength of his, and fighting back with a strength that finally matched his. And then Reid baring his neck and grabbing his hair and dragging him close to let Geoffrey drink from him, the gnawing hunger finally mixing with an ecstasy he hadn’t thought possible.</p><p>There was more blood after that – not all Reid’s, but human. Stored blood from the hospital, he realised once he could think clearly again, cold and still the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. It finally quieted the mad roar in his mind, but sharpened his senses so much that the noise around them became almost unbearable. He must have spent the rest of the night simply lying there in the hospital bed he’d died in, with Reid by his side, as he took in the city around them – conversations at the other end of the corridor, the scent of smoke drifting up from nearby chimneys, the heartbeat and the strange patterns of blood flow whenever someone walked past their room. It was thrilling, and maddening, and beautiful in a way that didn’t bear thinking about.</p><p>And as the morning came, he simply passed out, with Reid curled against his side on the too small bed. Geoffrey had had trouble sleeping for years – a side effect of working through the night too often and trying to sleep when the sun came up, and of too many worries racing through his mind even when his body was exhausted. Now it was as if his brain simply switched off as soon as the sun rose, even though the shutters were closed and not a ray of daylight fell into their room.</p><p>When he woke again, his mind almost felt like his own again. His body and his senses didn’t, but at least he could think again. Reid looked at him with that same expression of guilt in his eyes, but before Geoffrey could tell him to calm down, one of the nurses came looking for him. Something about a patient’s condition worsening and could he please come immediately. Reid suggested Geoffrey come along, and after a moment’s confusion he realised it was simply a test of his self-control. Watching Reid operate on some poor bastard, the room filled with such an intense smell of blood that Geoffrey could almost taste it on his tongue. He gained an entirely new appreciation for Reid’s restraint as he watched him work for a few hours – or rather as he stood there and breathed useless, slow breaths to keep down his own bloodlust. He managed, though. Didn’t even move from his spot near the door until it was almost midnight.</p><p>Eventually he grew impatient, though, as it became easier to resist the lure of all that blood, and anyway, he didn’t need Reid watching him. There was always work to do for a hunter, and he couldn’t wait to find out what good his newfound leech powers would do him. So he slipped out of the room when Reid was too distracted by his work to notice him leave, and then out of the hospital to make his way to one of his nearby hideouts. As he replaced the clothes Reid had lent him with some of his own, he realised that even the fabric felt different on his skin, his nerves noticing the slightest little details his human body had never been aware of. It was like stepping from twilight into the bright sun, when vague figures and indistinct shapes became clearly visible, when everything burst from shades of grey into the brightes colours – and he was well aware of the irony of that comparison, knowing that he’d never see the sun again.</p><p>Before he went out again, he hesitated, but then he turned towards the small mirror he kept in the safe-house for shaving. He looked – more like himself than he felt was right, somehow. He’d always been pale, even if the pallor had taken on a strange, almost see-through quality now that made his veins far too visible at his temples. His eyes were still as blue as they’d ever been – and he had no intention of changing that, because Priwen didn’t kill humans – but there was an odd glow to them he didn’t think he’d ever noticed before in any leech. But then he didn’t think he knew any leeches who’d never killed, not even Reid.</p><p>When he pulled up his upper lip, the sight of his fangs made him flinch, even though he’d felt them in his mouth ever since waking up. They looked too big for his mouth, and impossibly sharp. He prodded at them with his tongue, cut himself when he wasn’t careful, and then <i>felt</i> the wound immediately closing again. A shiver went through him – injuries were so common in hunters, and he’d been through his fair share in all these years. All the time he’d spent healing, getting back on his feet, getting his strength back the few times he’d been hurt badly enough that he’d been bed-ridden. And of course that fight a few nights ago – how easy it would have been if his body had simply healed itself. There was no scar on his stomach from the wound that had spelt his death. Reid’s leech blood had healed it without leaving a trace as it coursed through Geoffrey’s body and transformed him into this, this terrible, dead thing with so much power it left him dizzy. It was easy to see why so many leeches lost sight of anything but their own strength and the freedom it offered them.</p><p>
  <i>Geoffrey?</i>
</p><p>He whirled around, his hand going out of mere instinct for a gun he doubted he still needed, but after a moment he realised that Reid wasn’t here. He hadn’t <i>heard</i> his voice, not even with those newly heightened senses. He’d felt it in his head. Geoffrey swallowed in discomfort – he’d read about that, those mental bonds that supposedly existed between very powerful Ekons and their progeny, and there weren’t many leeches more powerful than Reid. Still, he’d always thought it sounded like one of those legends leeches made up to make themselves appear more mysterious and alluring, not something that could possibly exist.</p><p>
  <i>Where are you?</i>
</p><p>Geoffrey could feel how anxious Reid was, too. Worried. Of course he was, and for once Geoffrey couldn’t blame him. After all, it was a good thing that Reid was so concerned for the safety of anyone Geoffrey might run into. It was why Reid had wanted to keep an eye on him in the first place.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Geoffrey said out loud, because only thinking it felt ridiculous. “I’m not going on a murderous rampage, if that’s what you’re thinking.”</p><p>He was still looking into the mirror, adjusting a scarf he no longer needed to protect his neck, and then slipped into his wintercoat. It had been a gift from Reid, two winters ago, because his old one had been so tattered and worn it had barely kept him warm anymore. He hadn’t wanted to accept it – it didn’t <i>look</i> as fancy as Reid’s clothes, though still fancier than anything else Geoffrey owned, but it was clearly of the highest quality and far too expensive – but he’d been too bloody cold and Priwen’s coffers had been as empty as always. He hoped this strange bond they shared now didn’t let Reid notice the warm satisfaction Geoffrey felt every time the coat’s weight settled on his shoulders.</p><p><i>All right. If you … need anything, you know where to find me.</i> There was a finality in Reid’s tone, as if he didn’t truly expect Geoffrey to come back to him, but surely that was nothing but the strangeness of this bond, this odd way of communicating.</p><p>“Sure,” he said and felt Reid slip from his mind. For a few moments, the emptiness was almost unpleasant, but then he gathered his wits about him and left the safe-house.</p><p>There was always hunting to be done in London, in this endless pit that drew blood-sucking vermin like a pile of shit drew flies. And he didn’t need to be so careful anymore – didn’t need thorough preparations, didn’t need traps and tricks and a dozen weapons to even the odds against monsters that could slip through shadows and bend matter to their will. He didn’t need backup and a generous helping of luck, luck that had run out in the end as it did for all men. His cold, dead body was brimming with power, and he couldn’t wait to test it against the things that lurked in the dark.</p><p>He spent most of the night hunting – and in all his years, he’d never felt as much like a predator as when he could <i>smell</i> a Skal’s blood even in London’s filth, when he could shift from shadow to shadow and slip through the smallest cracks to corner the leech, when he could simply lift it up in the air and slam it so hard into the ground that he heard its bones shatter. He moved with a grace he hadn’t even possessed as a young man, with a strength that made nothing seem impossible. He had no doubt that he was capable of far more dramatic manoeuvres now – he’d seen Reid fight, after all, and he knew that an Ekon’s progeny tended to be almost as powerful as the one who turned them –  but that night he barely explored a fraction of it. There would be enough time for that, and then he could finally rid the city, the whole country even, of all those leeches that had always slipped through his fingers, the ones that had been too powerful or too careful to be caught. He’d wondered if Reid had considered all Geoffrey would do with his new power if he turned him, but in all likelihood he had – Reid knew him so well, after all these years, and for all that he occasionally called him a cruel thug and complained about his methods, Reid shared Geoffrey’s low opinion of most of his kind.</p><p><i>Their</i> kind. He didn’t think he’d get used to that half as fast as to his new abilities.</p><p>When the sky started brightening with a hint of grey in the blackness, he decided he’d done enough for one night. He had, after all, centuries ahead of him. He considered returning to Pembroke Hospital, but it was late enough that he headed towards the West End instead. He’d been to Reid’s home plenty of times – sometimes for medical attention, sometimes to ask for his help, sometimes simply because his skin itched with a need he’d never liked to acknowledge and Reid was usually obliging enough to bend him over and fuck him so hard that every last thought vanished from his mind, without Geoffrey even having to ask for it.</p><p>He considered the front door, but then he slipped around the back and shifted from the ground to the first floor balcony in the blink of an eye, right outside Reid’s study. When he let his vision slide into that strange greyish leech sight, in which the only colour in the world was blood, he could see Reid next door in his bedroom. Still feeling rather silly about it, he thought, <i>Open the bloody door</i>, and saw Reid’s head snap up like a dog’s at the promise of a treat.</p><p>Mere seconds later Reid opened the balcony door to let him in. He still looked as weary as the night before, already stripped down to his trousers and a half-opened shirt. It was a good look on him, and if Geoffrey had thought that his hunger for blood would dull any other desires, he should truly have known better.</p><p>“Geoffrey.” Reid looked uncertain for a moment, then took a deep breath. He sounded almost resigned. “Did you bring that because you’re here to try and kill me again?”</p><p>Geoffrey laughed and propped his sword up against the wall, then shrugged off his coat.</p><p>“For doing what I told you to do? I’m not a hypocrite, Reid.”</p><p>At least Reid didn’t seem to be able to read every thought he had, if he still assumed Geoffrey would be mad at him. It was somewhat reassuring, even if it didn’t make hearing Reid’s voice in his head any less unsettling.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have had to do it if I’d helped you in the first place.” Reid looked so genuinely crestfallen that Geoffrey couldn’t help the slight ache he felt for him. Reid’s hand was strangely gentle when he stepped closer and touched Geoffrey’s cold cheek. “This is my fault.”</p><p>“Not everything is about you, leech,” Geoffrey snapped, though he didn’t move away from Reid’s touch. When Reid gave him a look, he shrugged – maybe he’d have to stop calling him that. Another thing that would take getting used to. After a moment he added, more seriously, “No hunter dies in his bed. If it hadn’t been that night, it would have been been a different night, a different hunt, a different leech. Maybe it would have been quicker and you’d only have found a corpse, and even that powerful blood of yours couldn’t have turned me then.”</p><p>Reid looked away, his fingers sliding down to Geoffrey’s shoulder.</p><p>“Do you think I don’t know that?” he asked, his voice tight with some emotion Geoffrey couldn’t place. “I imagined it every time you came to me, bleeding and injured, and I couldn’t help but think about the day you wouldn’t make it to me in time. But if I’d offered this to you … You <i>despise</i> ‘leeches’.”</p><p>“Still do. I got a lot better at killing them now, so it’s not all bad.”</p><p>“Is that what you were up to all night?” Reid gave him an incredulous stare, and then smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised. So you’re … adapting?”</p><p>“It’s almost concerning how easy it is. To get used to all this power.” The hunger hadn’t truly left him, despite the stored blood Reid had offered him, but it had ebbed to more of a background ache instead of the maddening pain he’d felt when waking up. A part of him was still disgusted by the very idea of being a leech, and yet he was certain now that he wouldn’t lose himself – if he could already think so clearly again, if he still remembered the same priorities he’d had in life, then surely he wouldn’t be in danger of turning into a mad beast.</p><p>Reid looked at him for a long time, his hand moving to the side of Geoffrey’s neck, his thumb stroking over the very spot he’d bitten the night before – no wound or scar there either, the skin as perfectly smooth as it had stayed throughout Geoffrey’s life. </p><p>“So the one time I’m willing to apologise to you, you don’t want me to?” Reid asked. The smile on his face looked tentative, as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck. And Geoffrey had no illusions that what Reid had been worried about was Geoffrey attacking him – in all likelihood he would be able to beat the leech eventually, once he’d grown into his powers, but not just yet. No, this was something else. Geoffrey held still as Reid pulled him closer until their foreheads touched – Reid’s skin didn’t feel cold anymore, or maybe Geoffrey just didn’t notice it now that his own body was just as dead.</p><p>“What are you worried about? That I’d … what, not forgive you?” It was a strange thought, that Reid would care so much what Geoffrey thought of him – beyond wanting to convince him of his basic decency all those years ago so Geoffrey would leave him alone.</p><p>Suddenly he could feel a wave of incredulity through that strange blood bond between them – he didn’t know if Reid had meant for him to feel it, or if the emotion was simply so strong that Reid couldn’t hide it from him.</p><p>“I – yes!” </p><p>This time it <i>was</i> gratifying to see Reid speechless, even if it was only for a few moments before he pulled Geoffrey into his arms, one hand cradling his throat and the other wrapped around his waist.</p><p>“I thought you’d leave and never speak to me again for doing this to you. And I didn’t know if that was more or less unbearable than watching you die under my hands,” he whispered into the cold air between them, and suddenly Geoffrey didn’t quite manage to feel smug anymore.</p><p>“I didn’t think that would matter so much to you,” he said quietly. He supposed it explained some things – the sadness in Reid’s expression the previous night, far more than just regret that he couldn’t save a patient. The concern every time he treated Geoffrey’s wounds and told him to be more careful. Or the countless gifts he’d given Geoffrey over the years, and not only to help keep him alive. Even the fact that he’d never really seen Reid lose his temper at anyone but him. Maybe they had both grown a little more attached to each other than they liked to acknowledge – at least than Geoffrey liked to acknowledge.</p><p>“That’s because you can be rather difficult about certain things. And you always shut me up when I as much as insinuate that I might enjoy your company.” Reid’s voice had taken on that familiar dry tone again, and it made his words far easier to swallow.</p><p>Geoffrey hadn’t thought very far beyond tonight – beyond that initial fear that he might not be himself anymore. He didn’t know yet if he’d return to Priwen, try to deceive them about what he was – or maybe tell them the truth, at least the ones he was close to. Or maybe it would be kinder to let them believe that he was truly dead, let them mourn their friend and leader without ever having to know he’d become the thing they’d all dedicated their life to hunting. He hadn’t decided on anything except that he’d keep doing what he’d always done.</p><p>And he hadn’t yet considered the fact that eternity was a very long time to spend alone – that if Reid and he had spent so much time together because of the things they shared, the things that drew them together and made it easier to confide in each other than in anyone else, they had even more in common now. Even more reasons to spend their nights in each other’s company, when Geoffrey was done hunting and Jonathan was done at the hospital. It had been so very convenient for years, after all, convenient and familiar and so much more than just pleasant.</p><p>“Think you’ll still enjoy it now? You don’t usually keep company with your own kind.”</p><p>“I might, if most of them weren’t power-hungry and cruel,” Reid replied.</p><p>“You know, I’m not sure if you’re talking about other leeches or other toffs,” Geoffrey said, and smiled when that drew a laugh from Reid, brightening up his weary face.</p><p>“Well, even years ago I would have found it far more likely that you’d agree to becoming a ‘leech’ before you’d do anything that might make you resemble a toff.”</p><p>Geoffrey had to bite back a laugh at that himself, felt his throat move against Reid’s hand. His touch felt so much more comfortable on Geoffrey’s skin now that the cold didn’t bother him anymore, and still so very familiar. He didn’t think there was any part of his body Reid hadn’t touched before, nor any part he didn’t want him to touch again.</p><p>He hadn’t even considered that he should stop seeing Reid after this – and now that the thought had occurred to him, he disliked it so much he couldn’t even blame Reid for being concerned. They were all creatures of habit, leeches and humans alike, and nobody liked being deprived of something this enjoyable.</p><p>So he leant in closer, strained against Reid’s firm grip so easily that he wondered just how much he could move Reid if he set his mind to it. If he could shove him around, if he could hold him down. He tried to test his strength in this, too, and it wasn’t only the fact that he took him by surprise that let him push Reid so very easily back towards the comfortable couch by the fireplace. He could feel Reid resist, but with a smile on his face, as if he was encouraging him to push harder, and then Reid moaned quietly when Geoffrey simply shoved him down onto the couch and settled in his lap.</p><p>“I clearly won’t have to worry about hurting you anymore by accident,” Reid said as he gripped his hips firmly, hard enough that it might have bruised Geoffrey once – not so long ago, and already the old fragility of his body seemed almost unthinkable. That he’d done all the things he’d done when the slightest misstep could have cost him his life. <i>Had</i> cost him his life.</p><p>“Or worry about biting me.” Geoffrey grabbed Reid’s chin, shoved his thumb between his lips to force his mouth open and see that dangerous glint of Reid’s fangs. They’d never been as unattractive as they should have been, just like everything else about the damned leech. Part of Geoffrey had wanted to know what those fangs would feel like in his flesh for much longer than he’d admit in a hundred years. And now he didn’t have to worry about his weak, mortal flesh anymore, didn’t have to worry about the leech finally snapping and tearing him to pieces. He pulled the scarf off his neck and opened his shirt, felt Reid’s gaze go to that silver cross that rested in its usual place – cold now, without Geoffrey’s skin warming the metal, and still not burning either of them. He knew now what Reid saw – the blood under his skin, as cold and dead as the rest of him, not that delicious, warm flow he saw in every human he passed. And yet Reid didn’t look any less hungry as he stared at his neck, and his eyes widened when Geoffrey growled, “So go on, bite me.”</p><p>Reid looked as if he wanted to ask him if he was sure, so Geoffrey grabbed his beard and dragged him close instead, and that seemed to be enough for Reid to stop hesitating and press his mouth against Geoffrey’s neck – but he bit him as slowly as he had the night before, as if savouring it when his fangs punctured his flesh. This time the pain was barely more than a mild ache, no more than when Reid fucked him hard or held him down as he did so. Geoffrey could smell his own blood, could almost feel Reid’s desire thrum through both their minds as he drank from him – a strange overlapping sensation of how much they both wanted this. </p><p>They were both hard by the time Reid tore himself away from Geoffrey’s neck, his lips bloody and irresistible. Geoffrey couldn’t decide if he wanted to ride Reid’s cock right then or there or pull him up and bend him over the couch, and instead he settled for simply getting his hand on both their cocks, quickly pulled out of clothes neither of them had the patience to take off. Reid covered Geoffrey’s hand with his own, tightening his grip around their cocks until Geoffrey found himself gasping, and he idly wondered if that would ever stop – his body thinking it needed air.</p><p>He ground down against Reid and kissed him hard – as roughly as they always had, without any of that strange tenderness of the previous night. And yet he couldn’t help but think that it felt different, like there was more to this than a mere need neither of them had found a better way to satisfy than with each other – and not only because Reid’s mouth tasted of his blood, and Geoffrey could <i>taste</i> every subtle note in it, the power they shared, that echo of Reid’s own taste in Geoffrey’s blood. He bit Reid’s tongue when it licked into his mouth, hard enough to fill both their mouths with that overpowering, distracting taste. It should have been disgusting, the mess they made of each other, the blood dripping down the corners of their mouths and onto their clothes. </p><p>Reid broke the kiss with a rough bite to Geoffrey’s bottom lip that had already healed again by the time Reid spat a mouthful of blood onto their hands where they were wrapped around their cocks, slick and messy and easing the slide of Geoffrey’s hand as he stroked them both more quickly. He felt as dizzy as he had while hunting – dizzy with power, with strength, with a sense of invulnerability he’d never imagined possible. And in the midst of all that something quieter, more intimate, in the truth of <i>why</i> Reid had shared this with him of all people.</p><p>He moaned against Reid’s bloody lips when he came over both their hands, and when he rubbed his come and their blood over Reid’s cock, squeezing just as hard as he knew the leech liked it, it didn’t take more than a few moments before Reid followed suit, his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against Geoffrey’s.</p><p>Afterwards they stayed like that for a little while, Geoffrey in Reid’s lap with his arms and legs wrapped around him, both of them panting as if they needed to catch their breath, the air sweet with the scent of their blood. It had been nothing like the way they usually fucked, when Geoffrey had more than once threatened to rip Reid’s fangs out if he didn’t keep them in check and Reid had growled at him like he’d ever been in any danger of snapping, and yet it hadn’t felt half as strange as it should have. And that, too, Geoffrey wanted to find out more about – what it would feel like to lick his own blood off Reid’s cock, what it would taste like to bite him right there, how intense it would be to fuck Reid while Reid buried his teeth in his neck. And if Reid’s stamina was anything to go by, then neither of them would have to wait much even if they spent an entire night in bed together.</p><p>And yet he felt strangely tired now, his body heavy as he curled up against Reid’s chest.</p><p>“It’s almost morning,” Reid mumbled into his ear as if he’d read his mind, and who knew, maybe he had. Geoffrey still didn’t quite understand just how much of each other’s thoughts they caught, by accident or if they actually focused on it.</p><p>“I’m not done with you yet,” Geoffrey replied just as quietly, but even so he feared that Reid was right. Dawn was creeping up on them much too fast, and Geoffrey could almost see the smallest sliver of sunlight stretching out towards the horizon. Even like this, it hurt his eyes, so he closed them quickly and pressed his forehead against Reid’s temple.</p><p>“Take it as incentive to come back earlier tomorrow night,” Reid said with a smile in his voice – as if Geoffrey had already agreed to spending the next night with him, and however many after that. But Geoffrey didn’t feel like arguing, and it wasn’t only the tiredness of the rising sun pulling at his mind. Reid clearly took it as an invitation to push a little more, because he added, “And stay with me for now. It’s far too late for you to get back to one of your safe-houses.”</p><p>“Fine.” Geoffrey realised he failed entirely to sound reluctant. With something like a Herculean effort he disentangled himself from Reid’s embrace before Reid could get it in his mind to carry him – he’d done that a few times when Geoffrey had been badly hurt, and it had injured his pride more than the wounds had injured his body. They were both a bloody mess, looking like a clichéd nightmare of decadent leeches, wallowing in blood and lust and selfish pleasures.</p><p>Except they hadn’t hurt anyone who couldn’t take it or didn’t want it, and for all their respective flaws, neither of them could ever have been accused of being selfish.</p><p>They cleaned up perfunctorily and headed to Reid’s bedroom – the heavy curtains already closed and not allowing even the smallest ray of light inside – where they sank into the ridiculously expensive sheets Reid slept on. Geoffrey had been in this bed often enough, had even dozed off a few times after they were done, but only ever for a little while before he woke and came to his senses and left the leech to his death-like sleep. Somehow it had seemed like it mattered, not actually <i>sleeping</i> next to the leech, as if Reid wasn’t far more helpless than Geoffrey had been during the day. </p><p>Even putting aside practical concerns like the rising sun, it felt like a useless distinction to make now. He’d let Reid turn him, worse, he’d <i>asked</i> him to turn him. He’d not only chosen an immortality he wouldn’t be able to spend with anyone but Reid, he’d also invited the leech right into his mind, where he might sooner or later find thoughts that Geoffrey was barely comfortable thinking himself.</p><p>He could have simply accepted his death. He’d lived a life worth living, he’d done so much good and saved so many people, he’d been a good friend and a better leader. And he would have died doing what he’d devoted his life to – it would have been a good death, filled with peace and contentment.</p><p>And instead he’d chosen this – to become the thing he hated most, and of course it also made him a better, more powerful hunter, gave him more time and more strength to do what needed doing. But if that had been his only concern, he could have found an Ekon to turn him years ago. He wouldn’t have done it if not for Reid, for this one damned leech that refused to be anything like the rest of them. Who made it look almost effortless, and who made it so easy to think that Geoffrey wouldn’t be anything like the rest of them either.</p><p>As Geoffrey rested his head on Reid’s shoulder and felt the heavy duvet settle over both of them just as the sun started to rise, his lids and his limbs heavy with a sleep that was more like dying, he realised that there was one more thing in his future he was quite certain about. He didn’t know if he’d return to Priwen or not, if he’d let them believe he was dead or tell some of them the truth. He didn’t know yet if he’d be able to face any of the men who’d been his friends for so many years and admit to them what he’d done. But he knew without a doubt, with the same certainty as that he’d never stop hunting, that he had no intention of leaving Reid’s side.</p>
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